And Again

Waking up to utter darkness was by far not the most threatening thing John Reese has ever encountered in his life. Perhaps it was when he woke up bound to a chair and gagged by Ulrich Kohl. Yeah, now that he thought about it, those needles were pretty terrifying. And they hurt a lot more coming out than going in. Reese frowned at the memory.

But no, a simple lack of light was not going to scare him, though his back did hurt a bit. How long had been in this position?

Carefully he reached out, to find something to grab onto in the inky blackness, and froze when his knuckles scraped against what felt like wood.

Oh, he said to himself. This is not good.

Finch had just finished feeding Bear his dinner, when he casually glanced at the clock on his computer. He carefully sat down in his chair and pulled up a couple of screens. Reese had checked in about an hour ago after escorting their latest number home after rescuing her from a jealous ex-husband.

It was only a ten minute walk back to the Library, Finch guessed, and Reese wasn't one to mess around. The billionaire decided to give his friend another half an hour before he sent Bear out looking.

Suddenly his phone started vibrating and Harold rushed to answer it, without even looking at the caller ID.

"Mr. Reese?" He said anxiously.

There was a slight pause. "No, Harold."

Finch stiffened in his seat and Bear automatically came to see what was wrong.

"Root," he whispered.

"And here I thought we were friends, Harold," came the wickedly sweet reply. "Too bad."

Narrowing his eyes, Finch gripped the phone tightly in his hand, almost to the point of breaking. "You and I will never be friends, Samantha."

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. "You don't scare me," she chided. "But I do know what scares you."

"And what is that?"

Finch could swear he felt her smiling at him through the damn phone.

"Where is Mr. Reese, Harold?"

Harold's eyes widen and Bear growls in agitation. Dogs had a keen sense when it came to their owners, and poor Bear knew something was wrong.

"What have you done with him?" Finch replies once he has found his voice again.

Root laughs. "All you technology and you can't find one insignificant person?"

Finch bristles at the "insignificant person" comment aimed at his friend, but he brushes it off. He needs to find John. After all, John had saved him once before.

"How did he find us?" Root hissed.

"Because you're wrong," Finch said proudly. "He proves you're wrong. Not all humans are 'bad code'."

If he wasn't mistaken, which he hardly ever was, Harold assumed Root was thinking about the same instance. He could see her scowling in his mind, the same way she was when she spotted Reese appear through the station doors.

"You have one hour, Harold," Root said forcibly calm. "Have fun."

There was a click and the line went dead.

John slammed his hand into the wood over and over, trying in vain to break free from his dark prison. He wasn't an idiot, he knew exactly where he was. Underground.

Now, as much as people liked to think that he was a big, powerful, ex-special forces, ex-CIA operative, which he was, he was still human. He had fears just like everyone else, just fewer than most. Being buried alive wasn't on his bucket list though.

It wasn't until he stopped struggling that he noticed his erratic heartbeat.

Ok, calm down John. Breathe. In and out. And again. In and out. Reese thought as he tried to steady his heart and lungs. And again.

Searching his pockets for his phone, he came up empty handed.

I wouldn't get a signal anyway.

Instead of panicking, he closed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened.

I walked Ms. Davenport home, confronted her ex-husband, and walked back to the Library…

Slightly shaking his head, Reese could not remember anything past the moment of calling Finch and letting him know everything had gone smoothly. That was it.

Must have gotten the jump on me. John mentally scolded himself. Maybe I'm getting too old.

As soon as Root had disconnected their call, Finch had immediately dialed both detectives. Luckily both were at their respective desks.

"You got a job for me?" Fusco asked as he absentmindedly pushed a couple of papers around his work area. "Need me to go somewhere with Mr. Sunshine?"

Finch fell silent at the innocent nickname.

"What's wrong, Finch?" Carter cut in.

"I can't locate John."

Both detectives looked at each other from across the gap of their desks.

"What do you mean, Finch?"

"Wonderboy's missing?"

Harold massaged his temples. "Root took John, and we only have," he stopped to check his watch. "Fifty minutes to find him."

"She couldn't have gotten far," Fusco said. "I mean, Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome is a big guy. No way she could have dragged him far."

"A reasonable assumption, Detective Fusco," Finch replied calmly.

Carter was already strapping on her weapon. "Where was he last you heard from him?" She chimed in as she motioned for Lionel to follow her.

The recluse gave them the address of Ms. Davenport and they both set off out of the precinct.

In and out, John. And again. Stay calm. Losing your head will not help the situation.

John tried to take his advice when all he wanted to do was howl in anger and smash his way out. But he suspected that probably a couple feet of dirt was more than a match for him right now.

Was Finch looking for him?

Finch.

What would the disabled billionaire do without him? Who would save the numbers that never ceased in coming? Well, there was Carter, though she has another job to do and a son. But then again there was Fusco, but he also had a family.

Reese almost laughed at Carter and Fusco running around chasing numbers with Finch yelling in their ears. Almost.

In the end, they will always place their families first.

That is what made Finch and Reese's partnership work. They had no family to protect or to call home to. They were technically dead. He was dying right now. Soon air would become an issue and he knew it.

"In the end, we're all alone and no one is coming to save you."

John remembers telling Jessica that line in the airport.

And yet I know he's looking for me.

Slamming his fist against the wood, Reese wished he could take back what he said to her that day. Because he was wrong.

There are good people, Jess. And I'm sorry I ever told you that before you walked away.

Finch ran over the footage from where he believed Reese to be right before he went missing. It seemed that Root had taken the liberty of disabling every camera in the vicinity of the number's apartment.

Except one. Finch smiled a bit.

The camera had seen better days and was barely functional at best. Root had suspected it was offline permanently, but Harold was able to pull up a short segment of footage showing a blue car hurrying away from the scene. There was no license plate on the vehicle, but he was able to track it through the other street cameras in the city.

Taking down the entire city's surveillance system would be too noticeable.

Harold followed the car until it stopped.

Getting up as fast as he could, he grabbed Bear's leash and hooked it securely to the Belgian Malinois's collar and grabbed a coat. Dialing as he hobbled, Harold phoned the two detectives on his way out.

"I have a location."

It's getting harder to take a breath John notices after a while. Root didn't even leave his watch on to tell what time it is.

Late, I'm guessing. It was nearly midnight when I called Finch earlier.

Finch.

"Thank you," Reese said almost in a whisper.

Harold looked up. "I beg your pardon?"

"For giving me a job," the other man answered in the same tone.

They regarded one another for a moment before Harold gave him a small smile.

"Try the eggs benedict, Mr. Reese. I've had them many times."

The numbers would continue to come, and Harold wouldn't be able to stop them. He would be back at square one again before he hired Reese. It pained him to think of his friend watching the social security numbers come and go without any way of helping.

He has Bear…

His eyes were becoming heavy. Since when did thinking take so much energy?

I'm sorry Harold, John thought sadly. I'm sorry for failing. Take care of Bear, Fusco, and Carter.

The darkness was almost suffocating and his chest hurt like it was on fire. He was pretty sure he couldn't feel his legs anymore, which was disturbing.

His words echoed through the emptiness. "In the end, we're all alone and no one is coming to save you."

Reese slowly let his eyes close.

Finch…

All four of them arrived at the park at the same time. Bear practically leaped out of the front seat and started sniffing around.

"How much time do we have?"

Finch checked his watch and his heart sank. "Ten minutes."

It was nearly one in the morning and the park was virtually empty. Looking around, Joss couldn't see anything suspicious. The dim lamps did not help in the slightest either.

"I don't understand," Harold muttered.

Bear's ears perked up and he bolted from his owner's grasp.

"Bear!" Finch cried.

"We got him!" Carter shouted as Lionel followed her lead.

They ran for about one hundred meters before spotting the dog. Bear was frantically digging a hole in the ground. Fusco stopped to catch his breath and stared at the animal.

"Now is really not the time Reese Jr.," he sighed.

Joss's eyes widened in horror. Bending down, she examined the earth, it was fresh, meaning someone had disturbed it recently. Forgetting herself, she started flinging chunks of dirt aside in her hasty attempt to help Bear.

The older detective bent down to help as soon as he understood the situation. This is why there was a time limit.

They had a few feet cleared away by the time Finch limped to their position. As soon as he saw what was happening he gingerly knelt down and started helping, despite his protesting back. He didn't care how much it would hurt him tomorrow, all that mattered was John.

Bear whined lowly, but still he kept digging.

"John!" Finch shouted. "If you can hear me, keep your eyes open! Do you understand? Don't you dare give in!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Bear's paw hit something solid. Finch gasped and started moving dirt even faster. They still had time.

One minute.

Still time.

Detective Fusco wrenched the lid open, flinging dirt everywhere, but no one paid it any mind.

"John!"

The man in the suit lay still in the cheaply constructed coffin, blood staining his hands from his attempts to free himself. If it wasn't for the situation, he could have been simply sleeping. There wasn't a trace of stress marring his face, and his hair fell loosely over his forehead. He looked years younger.

Finch's heart stopped for a second

No.

This wasn't happening.

Bear barked a couple of short, sharp yelps and jumped beside John. He started licking the ex-CIA's face repeatedly and pawing at his chest. Harold wondered if John would mind being licked. Then again he did eat a doughnut that had been licked by Bear. He sadly smiled a bit. The billionaire never did tell his friend about that.

Lionel was trying to lure Bear out of the pit while Carter was helping Finch to stand up when John sucked in a deep breath, startling them all. He gasped for much needed air and opened his eyes. It was a good thing it was dark out because he had a killer headache.

Coughing rather violently, Fusco and Carter helped Reese onto the grass. The world was spinning, and John and no idea how to stop it.

Their loyal companion rested his furry head on John's knee as Harold slumped down next to the other man. The secretive computer genius knew that his friend would need some time to rest and he definitely needed help getting John home.

The two detectives visibly relaxed and stood protectively around the small family.

"I knew you'd come for me," John mumbled before drifting into unconsciousness. This time it was voluntary and much needed.

Finch watched as blue eyes closed to the world, and he sighed in relief.

"Always, John."

First Person of Interest story based off of one named Schrödinger. Look it up, it's good.

Anyway, hope you liked it.

Nicholls